


Perfectly Civil

by Say_lon_I



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Attempted Murder, Bottom Erwin Smith, Cheating, Dystopian Future, Eventual Levi/Erwin Smith, Implied Erwin/Petra Ral, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Love/Hate, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Minor Erwin Smith/Mike Zacharias, Past Levi/Petra Ral, Tech Wizardry, Unhealthy Relationships, Women in Refrigerators, unseen character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27196501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Say_lon_I/pseuds/Say_lon_I
Summary: A sprightly relocation to the immigrant district Shiganshina has left Erwin in the midst of whispers and unwelcoming arms. The children like him plenty though. Erwin, an opportunist by nature, is set on making a quiet, fulfilling life in the withering apartment block assigned to him.That is, until one night, he witnesses his neighbor attack their girlfriend with a gardening shovel.
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	Perfectly Civil

**Author's Note:**

> In case someone didn't read all the tags: this story has problematic elements. A lot of it is merely implied and not discussed in detail though. Most characters in this story are also people with finicky morals. If canon proceedings are your cup of tea, then the contents of this story may not be that bad for you, but just in case. 
> 
> This thing has been collecting dust in my folder for _years_ so I felt compelled to do something with it. If you're still here despite the warning, enjoy!

Erwin’s shower today is peaceful; there’s nobody practicing screaming therapy in the adjacent block, for starters.

He lives alone. It’s a rare day off. The water is sufficiently warm; miraculous with this ancient heater, really. He’s grown so accustomed to it, to things being haywire in the few months tailing his inconvenient relocation here, to having his ears itching with overheard disputes, that it’s almost eerie how silent his next door neighbors are this morning. No struggles, no insults. No dishes and lamps being hurled at the walls.

He’s witnessed the aftermath of it; a strawberry blond woman sitting on the front porch while holding her head; people on the street turning a blind eye when the quarreling gets loud enough to tip off practically every soul on the block. More intimately, he’s seen the fingerprints on the back of a slim neck, a bruised thigh, a blue shoulder blade. All conveniently placed marks that few would notice were they not actively looking, that none but a lover could discern the existence of.

He hadn’t noticed at first either. He’d been too distracted by other, more comely things.

There’s a creak of a door opening, a thud of it shutting again. Weightless footsteps. The shower on the other side of the wall starts a steady spray.

“Fucking hell,” his neighbor swears frustratedly.

Erwin scoffs despite himself. Rinsing off the last of what he thinks might be guilt, he turns off his showerhead, wraps a towel around his waist, and leaves the needless musings behind in stinted droplets on glass.

\-------

He sees the man for the first time in late August.

It’s raining heavily, and it’s cold, and Erwin wants to do nothing but open a bottle of Scotch and forget it’s that time of the year where the humidity makes it hard to breathe, harder to think. The mask covering his mouth and nose doesn’t help. The Dome has managed to keep the atmosphere of the inner walls quite decent through the years since its erection, kept the damage done by the fluctuating climate to the minimum, but the districts at the edge of Wall Maria get no such courtesies. The acidic rain has already started discoloring Erwin’s umbrella of years. It had been a bright blue when he’d arrived in Shiganshina, had made heads turn in envy at the protective clear casing that kept him waterproof. Now it’s a dull grey. Smog sticks to fibrous roofs and brown bricked walls of the row houses, running down in dirty rivulets to seep into the soil, and Erwin resents, not for the first time, that his new block exists in the same reality as the ravaged world of industrial waste.

When he turns around the corner for his street, he’s met with a sight that’s so out of place on an average day that he fears he might finally be losing it.

Erwin’s garden had been overgrown when he was moving in; weeds and dandelions and whatnot were sprouting everywhere, curled around the stairs and the porch, swallowing half of the wrought iron gate at the front. That is, until the rapidly changing weather had killed everything in its wake, of course. His neighbors’ front yard, in comparison, has been dismal from the get-go. Not even pesky grass has been able to keep its roots there. He’s seen a few potted plants in the windows on days when Petra doesn’t draw the curtains shut, but that’s about the extent of floriculture he’s gotten used to from his neighbors.

So seeing a flash of bright color through the miserable hedges throws him off. His curiosity peaks with every squelch of his boots against the wet mud. Erwin recognizes the squeaky clean, sunflower yellow as an umbrella before he can make sense of its owner.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

His voice is as unpleasant as Erwin had imagined it to be from second-hand accounts, somewhat scratchy, its undertone mildly threatening, and though it’s more than just normal to gawk at someone who’s making a racket in a residential area in such weather, he can’t help but look contrite at once.

“My apologies,” Erwin says, words barely making the distance for the other to hear.

The umbrella bobs in response, shifts, and the man looks up from under it. He’s squinting. His lips are a little blue, and his pallor doesn't look any better. There’s a trowel in his right hand, its end mud stained, and the soil he has plowed is rapidly washing away in the rain. A plastic bag hangs on one of his narrow shoulders. “What was that?” He’s wearing what seems like hospital gloves.

Erwin clutches the steel of his umbrella handle tighter. “Nothing,” he replies, a little louder this time so the word isn't muffled by the pitter-patter of the rain or his mask. Far steadier.

This neighbor of his unsettles him greatly, and they’ve barely even interacted yet. But then again, if he’s being frank, most of the townsfolk unsettle him. Just something about being an outsider settling in a backward ditch of a district; if it’s not the factory fumes clogging up his systems, then it’s the hushed whispers and curious eyes on his back. It’s a lot harder to blend in with the crowd in Shiganshina than he has anticipated. People here indulge in anything that breaks their monotony.

Which is also why his neighbor, who hasn’t set a foot out of his house since Erwin moved here, interests his baser instincts despite being unsettling. “Came out of nowhere, didn’t it?” He calls, pointing up at the sky at the other male’s puzzled grunt. “It was clear this morning. Good thing I carried the umbrella. Global Warming might not actually be a hoax after all.”

The man scoffs loudly, but doesn’t look at him. “What? You’re one of those science deniers?”

“I’d like to think not.”

“Look, I don’t study nature or climate either, but I’m also not fucking stupid.”

Erwin laughs; it’s a tight, measured laugh. He gets no gratitude for his attempt at not making things awkward. He peers through the raindrops rolling down his umbrella extensions, wets his lips. He decides to let the conversation flow naturally. “Sorry if I’m interrupting something important, but… you used to work for the Survey Corporation, if I'm not mistaken?” He asks.

The reaction he gets is far from that of someone who’s pleasantly surprised. The man frowns at him, his thin brows knitting together, nose scrunching up in outright disgust; it’s like he has decided, just from one look, that Erwin is lower than the dirt covering his boots and gloves.

“What’s that got to do with you?” The man throws at him.

Erwin scratches the side of his neck and purses his lips. That’s a first. He has had his fair share of being the topic of idle gossip, but it’s rare that he’s been written off so quickly by someone like… this. Not that Erwin is a harsh critic of people, but he has expected a neighborhood celebrity to at least be… somewhat impressive? So far, he's not heard one sentence from this man that doesn't involve a cuss word. “Oh, nothing," he replies. "I just heard some people talking about it down at the laundromat, so I was curious. You worked on the renovations they did to the Dome, right?”

“ _Renovations_? I practically rebuilt it by giving it the ability to predict and decide better,” his neighbor hisses, clearly offended.

“Right, right. That. You’re quite popular around the town.”

From the way the man’s eyes narrow at him, Erwin knows he has put his foot in his mouth again. He's given another once over, as if he's finally being considered as being worth more than dirt, grey eyes calculating every twitch of his body. “Are you another nosy tourist or a paparazzi or something? Did the Corporation put you upto this or do you just want to make a quick buck?" The man asks. When Erwin does nothing but stare at him dumbfoundedly, he huffs. "Look, either way. I don’t have time for this shit anymore and ain't gonna comment on nothing else. Go tell that to whoever hired you.”

He says it with such ease that it could only be coming from constant rehearsals.

Erwin offers a placating smile in an attempt to salvage the situation. Clearly this is a touchy subject. Erwin has his own complaints with the system, too, but it’s the first time he’s seen someone this openly disdainful of it. In the shadows, there are always talks of how the government is bought, how it is a complete sham in the name of powerful capitalist companies, but few dare to speak a word of it in the light. After the first wave, this robust system was what had kept Paradis going long after others had fallen, after all.

“Oh, no. I’m just a teacher. The name is Erwin Smith.” He smiles wider, friendlier. He isn’t looking to make friends, but he’s not looking to make enemies either, so although he’s no pushover, it seems rather counterproductive to start on the wrong foot with his immediate neighbor. “I moved in next door recently. I came over the other day, but I was told you were busy, and it slipped my mind after that. So I figured I should take this opportunity to introduce myself.”

He relaxes when the trowel doesn’t come flying at him. The man still crouches there, peering at him through the film of the rain, his previous tasks put all on hold for the moment. “And this was the best time you could think of for that?” He motions apathetically towards the ground he’d been digging.

Erwin doesn’t get his point, but he smiles and plays along. He’s good at that.

“I suppose there could’ve been a better time, yes.”

The man huffs. “Cheeky bastard. Sure, sure, whatever. Petra mentioned some bloke moving in next door. Nice to meet you and all,” he goes on, but Erwin takes it with a grain of salt. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man to bother with common courtesies. He also seems a bit cuckoo in the head. It’s not an entirely unpleasant blend, if Erwin is being honest. It keeps him on his toes.

"Petra," Erwin repeats the name, testing it out on his tongue.

The other male scowls at him deeply. “Yeah, Petra. My _girlfriend_. Is that all you wanted to say?”

“Well,” Erwin falters.

“You’re all made out of the same fucking material, I swear.”

“I beg your pardon?”

That seems to aggravate the man more than any intruding questions Erwin may have thrown at him in the past few minutes. “Since you don't seem like a paparazzi, I know what's going on. You heard some gossip in the town, you got curious. I get it, alright? I’m no show pony though, and you better get that through your thick fucking skull.” The sunflower yellow umbrella greets him again. The man returns to digging the ground. “Now, if you’re done being a nosy little shit, fuck off already. I’m busy.”

Erwin doesn’t necessarily like the tone the man uses, but he’s a constructive element of the society; he pretends he’s not just been humiliated for no reason, keeps his myriad of choice words to himself. The rain doesn’t create an earthy smell here like it does back in Mitras; here it’s more putrid, scalds the hair in his nose if he focuses too much while breathing. He picks his way through the wasted shrubbery and enters his own now barren, mud-addled yard. The installation of an amateur stone path is in order if he doesn’t want his boots to suffer everyday for the next however many years he’s going to have to stick it here in Shiganshina.

It sure is an awful time to do gardening though, he thinks.

\-------

Not that he isn’t used to the students gawking at him in hallways, but Erwin is sure he’s getting more than his usual share of attention today.

He hasn’t done his hair differently, hasn’t let the undercut grow out, and his shirt is at least a few months old; he’d bought it at the public square in Mitras at 50% off while out with an old coworker whom he doesn’t even associate with anymore. He’s also been working here for more than a quarter of a year already, so the sight of him should be a usual affair by now, he argues.

Nevertheless, as he collects assignments on “Epidemic Diseases and Their Effects on History” from his third class of the day, he can hear several kids giggling behind his back.

“Mr. Kirschtein,” he chastises, sorting the collected papers neatly onto his desk. “Would you like to share with the class what’s so funny?”

The kid in question, a nervous ball of wreck once called out, chooses to remain silent and instead just rubs the back of his head. Nobody is laughing anymore. Erwin lets the matter slide only because he has other important matters to attend to. He asks the students who haven’t submitted their assignments yet to do so by the end of the day or he wouldn’t be held responsible about reducing a grade or two, and afterwards, as the bell rings, watches them all practically scramble out of the room.

It’s only when he visits the Dean in the afternoon and the balding man asks him if marriage is on the horizon that Erwin realizes there’s a lipstick stain on his collar.

He goes home and washes it out with his own two hands.

\-------

Levi.

That’s his eccentric neighbor’s name. Erwin has known it for months now. Heard it for weeks. He’s never said it out loud. He’s been keeping his distance.

He can’t keep doing that anymore because a month or two after the rain incident, a package addressed to ‘Levi Ackerman’ is dropped onto his doorstep. It’s brown, and fits in the palm of his hand. Leaving it here before Erwin shifted to this block was one thing, but now? It’s a hassle. He can say nothing of the postman who hasn’t read the simple ‘Erwin Smith’ beside his door before delivering because it simply isn’t the man’s concern.

He stamps for it, picks it up, is slightly caught off guard at the weight such a tiny thing can comprise to. He wonders only briefly at what might be inside it. He decides that just like the postman, it’s none of his concern either.

The speaker beside his neighbor’s front door crackles to life the moment Erwin rings the bell.

“Nobody’s home,” comes the curt reply, thick with irritation and, possibly, fatigue.

Erwin isn’t caught off guard. Though delivering Levi Ackerman’s packages used to be the highlight of his day, the lack of smiles and strawberry chapstick these past few days has him both curious and disappointed. He’s started missing even the little chitchats that kept him distracted on bad days.

“Good morning, Levi,” he replies into the microphone of the panel as pleasantly as he can manage despite himself. He’s efficient in conversing with firebrands. Especially ones with a touchy history that’s quite a loved topic of discussion for the neighborhood. Yeah, he’s proved Levi right by actually being nosy and looking things up on him. “I have your mail. Again.” Simple routine by now.

There’s a crash. Loud. Somewhere within the inner rooms. The man on the other side of the door curses vulgarly. Mouth as foul as the bruises he leaves on ill-tempered days. Erwin isn’t surprised.

“Any of them blue?” Levi asks after a moment. Erwin can’t make out the words that had been spoken prior to the ones being addressed to him, but it isn’t like that’s any of his business. He looks down at the small khaki package in his hand, turns his eyes to the plain white of the envelope that’s arrived alongside it.

He’s taken a moment too long to respond. “Throw them away,” the man says.

“I don’t know what’s inside, but there’s a package, and it’s heavy,” Erwin interjects. The last thing he wants is having to dispose of some loon’s suspicious mail. No matter how good of a neighbor he’s been trying to be here, he just isn’t ready for that type of commitment yet. “It might be something important?”

Levi doesn’t reply. Erwin stands there for a whole minute even after the crackling of the speaker dies. He stares at the assertive door, shifts from one foot to the other. He scratches the back of his neck. He rings the doorbell again. Just when he’s contemplating leaving the package on the porch and going back to his casserole, Levi graces him with his presence.

It’s very rare that Erwin gets to see the man this up close. He barely even reaches Erwin’s chest, and though Erwin doesn’t discriminate when it comes to shallow things like height and looks, he has to admit that Petra could’ve done a lot, lot better if she’d wanted. Well, technically speaking, she _has_. Not that Erwin likes to toot his own horn, but he can't help it in the face of this particular specimen. As if the downwards curve of his lips isn’t unpleasant enough, Levi’s black hair is chopped frustratingly unevenly, as if the man himself took a pair of clippers and went to town, and the dark circles under his beady eyes seem more prominent than usual.

“Give it here,” Levi mutters, not sparing the blond a glance. Erwin doesn’t take offense.

“Long day?” He asks as Levi struggles to read the tiny lettering on the back of the envelope. The package looks out of place in those slender but scar-littered hands. His neighbor nods vaguely at Erwin’s attempt to break the ice but makes no real conversation. Typical. Erwin sucks in a breath. “Is Miss Ral not home today either?”

That seems to get Levi’s attention. Erwin spies a slight bob to his Adam’s apple, and offers him a harmless smile as Levi looks up at him through the choppy mess of his front bangs.

“... She’s outta town,” Levi replies eventually. “Visiting her old man. Might be away for another few days.” He furrows his thin brows. They look like they’ve been drawn on meticulously with a sharpie. He wishes the artist had done a better job. “Why do you ask?”

Lips pursed, Erwin shakes his head, waves a hand around vaguely. “Oh, just curious. I usually hand your mail to her. I haven’t seen her around recently though, so I was wondering. That’s all.”

Levi gives him a once over. Erwin holds his breath despite himself and pretends not to notice being subjected to such scrutiny. Scowling, Levi returns his gaze to the package in his hand; he seems far from pleased from whatever his takeaway had been with Erwin. “I know,” he says. He has a way of talking that must be hard to lip read; his mouth barely opens around the words, and his voice l, beneath all that scratchiness, has a fascinating slur to it. “You brought us that pie the other week. And helped with carrying the groceries before that. And fixed the leak in our roof a month ago.” He’s staring Erwin right in the face now. “You’re very helpful, aren’t you?”

Erwin takes a moment to answer. He’s a good actor, so he doubts Levi will catch on to his nerves, but he forces on a charming smile nonetheless. “Just doing my job as a neighbor.”

“Right.” Levi nods but Erwin knows he doesn’t buy it. “And?”

“And?”

“I've got my mail. Why are you still standing here?”

Erwin rubs the back of his neck, suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin. It’s clear from Levi’s stare that the man isn’t as clueless about things outside of his field as people like to think. In fact, he’s quite perceptive. He’s also getting dangerously confrontational. Erwin had planned to ask the man when Petra would be back, because he’d thought his reactions would be amusing, but that is no longer a viable inquiry. “How’s your gardening going?” He asks instead.

Levi gives him an incredulous look. “I don’t do gardening. I hate filth.”

“Really? But you were digging that day.”

“Was I?” Levi raises a brow, though he’s only half paying attention to Erwin now. He's gone back to being more interested in reading the addresses on the envelopes; most of them are addressed to Petra Ral, Erwin notices. Levi looks thoughtful, but isn't scowling.

“Yeah. You seemed very busy digging up your front yard in the middle of a cloud burst the other day. It was quite a shock. I think I've seen Miss Ral mowing the lawn once or twice before, but not much else. I thought you-”

A loud crash cuts Erwin’s good-natured jab off. He instinctively looks towards the source of the sound, trying to peek into the house past Levi, but the man swears loudly and shoves Erwin backwards _hard_ in a surprising show of strength. Erwin stumbles, manages to catch himself on the railing. “Fucking hell,” Levi cusses, looking almost frantic. He turns to glance behind himself briefly, then pins Erwin down with a glare, before promptly shutting the door in the blond’s face. No explanations, no apologies. Just an unyielding piece of wood staring Erwin mockingly in the face.

And just when he thought they were beginning to warm up to each other too.

He rubs the pain out of his arm and frowns. Hours later, he’s changing into his night clothes when he notices a new bruise that is, no doubt, the result of their unprompted scuffle earlier; it’s a deep red mark, turning blue at the edges, spanning across the meaty expanse of his left forearm. Levi's strength is somewhat of an enigma.

He’ll have to forgo rolling his sleeves back during school hours for another few days then.

\-------

Erwin has had a fulfilling life for the most part. Despite never knowing his mother and having an absent father, he’s done quite well and become a bright, upstanding man in this sham of a society. But sometimes he can’t help but think of how bland things can get.

While he is at work, seated at the old oak table, trapped within colorless walls, he thinks about how peculiar it is that he resolves and takes comfort in this tedium, yet gets fed up with it in little time. Something is always amiss, though he knows not what. The papers sequined with red stare back at him unblinkingly. His pen taps an unnerving rhythm on the wood. It’s so peaceful. There’s no crick in his neck, no phantom pains, no stench; it feels all wrong, has felt wrong since forever.

A knock breaks the morbid spell. Erwin clears his throat, forces out a sturdy “Yes?”

“Mr. Smith? It’s Eren.” A foot appears from the gap between the door and the doorframe, then a head. Eyes; green. The doctor’s son, Erwin’s brain supplies. “I came to turn in that paper. Thanks for giving me an extra day to finish it. Words just swim in front of me, you know?” A brawny, yet nervous laugh.

Erwin nods curtly, motions for the boy to leave the said paper on his table, eyes stuck to a B- on the top of the pile he has just finished checking.

“Mr. Smith?”

“Hmm?”

“I heard you’re neighbors with Levi Ackerman,” the boy says. Quite straightforward, and nosy. Erwin looks up and meets his curious eyes. “Do you get along well with him?” Erwin doesn’t know what brought this on, or where this is even going.

“I don’t see how that should concern you in any way, Mr. Jaeger.”

The boy looks sheepish at once under his scrutiny. “No, it’s just… I admire him, you know? I’m interested in his field of work. Research and stuff. I’ve been following him ever since they rebuilt the Dome based on his research. I even own the book he co-authored.” He clears his throat. It’s hard to imagine a ninth-grader like him reading a book outside of the school curriculum; he looks like a meathead to say the least. “I just wanted to know if it’s possible for me to meet him.”

Erwin thinks about his foul-mouthed neighbor and just how unapproachable he is. He’s not sure how a man like that can have any admirers. “I highly doubt that,” he replies honestly.

Eren looks unconvinced.

“Mr. Ackerman seems really busy. I don’t think he’d be able to make time for this,” Erwin elaborates, before offering the boy a small smile. He doesn’t particularly want any students of his getting anywhere near the guy either. Levi is unpredictable, ill-tempered, and far from someone to be idolized.

"Could you still ask him?" Eren tries again; he's getting desperate.

"I... I'm not sure."

"Is it because of the rumors?" Well, the kid holds no hostages. Erwin isn't sure how he's supposed to respond to _that_. "You don't want me associating with him because he was accused of unethical experimentation, isn't it?" Eren _had_ mentioned having followed his work for a while now; the kid knows full well what he's getting into.

Erwin can't hold back his surprise despite himself. "Pardon?"

"I know what they say about him, Mr. Smith. I'm not deaf. And I also know that the allegations were never proven, never even taken to court, because if they were, he'd be behind bars right now."

Erwin laces his fingers together and rests his chin on his hands. He doesn't particularly want to be arguing with children, but the kid is getting bolder by the second, and Erwin would rather something troublesome be nipped in the bud. "Mr. Jaeger, you do know that 'not proven' and 'innocent' are not the same thing, right?"

"Are you saying you're neighbors with a psychopath?"

Erwin sighs. "Now, now. Don't put words in my mouth." He adjusts his glasses and picks up his pen. "I'm sure Mr. Ackerman has his own reasons. Perhaps it was just a misunderstanding. Perhaps they let him resign so as to keep a bright mind from wasting away in jail. Either way, you'd benefit from not getting in the way of his work. He's a very busy individual."

"You're deflecting."

"I'm changing the subject."

"I thought you'd be different from other adults," the boy mutters disappointedly. He's got a deep frown on his face, and his teeth are bared. Erwin can spy a speck of spinach stuck between the incisors. He finds it amusing considering Eren's raw emotion at being taken lightly, but spares the boy the horror by not mentioning it. He knows that look; he's received them enough times in his life to be immune to them by now. Sympathy is as wonderful a word as it is hollow and empty.

"Unfortunately, I'm exactly like other adults, Mr. Jaeger. And we're all looking out for you."

\-------

“What?”

Levi’s voice over the phone sounds sharper and even more raspy than usual. It’s like someone has tried to asphyxiate him just moments ago. Erwin tries not to chase that thought any further. The phone directory provided to him here has all landline numbers, but Levi was never the one picking up his call before, so Erwin isn’t sure how to respond even though Levi is the one he’s looking to talk to this time. He's bad at conversing with Levi, he's found out. He can’t gauge the man’s mood without the usual visual cues either.

“I’m going to the market in a bit. Would you like to come with me?” Erwin repeats his question.

“Smith.” Levi doesn’t sound impressed. “What the fuck are you playing at?”

“Nothing,” he answers quickly. “I just figured since Miss Ral isn’t around, you might want to pick some things up for yourself.” Levi has to eat, right? No matter how inhumane he might come off as, he's still mortal. The man already looks sickly pale on an average day; Erwin isn't sure if he wants to know what starvation or malnutrition would do to him. “If you wait for too long, the fresh ration goes out of stock. Just canned food isn't good for your health.” He’s heard that claim from the neighborhood ladies and, frankly, isn’t in any hurry to test its legitimacy just yet.

Levi goes quiet for a long time. It’s unnerving to say the least. “I’m busy,” he says at last.

Erwin still doesn’t know what exactly ‘busy’ means when it’s coming from Levi; as far as he has managed to dig up, Levi is currently unemployed. Petra has been the primary source of income for the pair. But there’s only so many credit scores you can earn by working in a soup kitchen. After his enlightening discussions with the locals, Erwin suspects that his neighbor may be involved in some shady business to make up for the rest of his expenses. Levi certainly seems like a man of that calibre.

“I figured.” The blond sighs. His neighbor sure likes to make even the simplest of things as tedious as humanly possible. “If it’s about the credit scores though, I could pick something up for you in your stead,” he suggests as gently as possible.

“What the fuck?” Levi doesn’t take that kindly. He’s clearly a man with an ego, and Erwin has been taking swings at said ego for far too long now. “Do you take me for a charity case or some shit?”

“What? Of course not! I was just saying that if you need help, I don’t mind lending my-”

“I don’t need your fucking help, Smith,” Levi practically spits out. Erwin doesn’t need to see the man’s face right now to know that he's going feral. Another long pause. He has been expecting the man to hang up on him any second now, so it’s pleasantly surprising when Levi takes a deep breath instead and mutters: “What the fuck is it that you want? Just say it. No niceties, no overcompensation. Just fucking say it.”

Erwin wets his lips. He’s supposed to ask after Eren’s inquiry, ask if Levi would be so kind to show his mug and exchange a few words with a starry-eyed student of his, but he can’t make himself say it when Levi is this straightforward and raw about the tensions between them. It's a bit unusual. Erwin hasn’t felt guilt and rage like this in a long, long time. Petra's kind, shy smile swims into his vision; her gentle touch makes him shiver. He's overwhelmed. “About Miss Ral,” he murmurs in a moment of weakness.

“I told you she’s not home.”

Still callous. Levi may be upset that there are things going on behind his back, but the concern is no more than that of a child asking after his favorite toy.

“I know.” Erwin takes a deep breath, pinches the bridge of his nose, and just like that, the weight is gone. “Please let me know when she’s back. I have to return her Tupperware, and I'd like to do so with something that she'd be delighted to eat.”

\-------

The rain doesn’t let up for the next few days either. Shiganshina High is closed down for the time being. Despite making no bones about things usually, parents have been quick to complain about the awful state of classes due to the bad weather. The teachers, likewise, are all granted leave; paid or otherwise, only time will tell. Erwin spends his time off confined to his apartment and catching up on all the reading he’s been neglecting over the past few weeks.

The thunder is so loud that an actual airplane could crash-land in his backyard and he’d never know

He bookmarks the page he’s reading and sets the book down on the bedside table. Adjusting his glasses, he slips out of bed and makes his way to the kitchen and puts his trusted coffee maker to work.

While the coffee brews, Erwin pulls the curtains aside to check the tree in his backyard. It’s tall and thin, and he’ll have to think about getting down on his knees and promising to atone for his sins if it ends up toppling over the fence between his and Ackerman’s backyards. He had finally gathered his courage and asked the man if he'd be willing to meet a student of his this morning, but Levi had, as expected, shut the door in his face again. Erwin can’t see circumstances involving property damage ending well for him after something like that. His neighbor is vindictive, and the rumors surrounding him make things seem even worse. God only knows what he’s capable of at this point.

The tree in question is, gratefully, still standing. It shakes violently in the wind, though, and the old, dead wood doesn’t seem like something that would last for too long. The barren soil is probably washing away in the downpour too.

Perhaps he should call Levi right now and discuss the potential damage beforehand.

Another thunderclap makes goosebumps rise all over his skin. His peripheral vision catches something. Erwin squints through the thick flow of water on his window, presses his face close to the freezing surface. There, under the tree, he’d seen something move. He saw it only briefly because of the split second of illumination. His heart is racing as he waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and once they do, Erwin gasps into his hands.

Standing drenched to the bone in the rain, his black hair plastered to his face, Levi swings a gardening shovel at his girlfriend. Her head rolls down the muddy ground.

\-------

Erwin flushes the toilet and washes his hands. When he ventures out into the bedroom again, Mike, who’s a math teacher by profession and an author by hobby, is still sprawled out on the bed like he owns the place. The comforter barely covers his thighs. He’s a big man with meaty paws and legs, with a generous smattering of golden hair all over his body, and Erwin isn’t going to deny that he’d spent half of his time in Mike’s company staring at the man’s ass earlier. At his gaze now, Mike gives him a lazy grin. He has no shame about being buck naked, though the blond admits that that would’ve been quite strange considering the past one hour he’s spent thoroughly ravishing the man.

He tosses a wet, warm towel to Mike. Mike doesn’t even bother sitting up as he catches it and wipes away their immediate concerns. “Thought you called me over because you wanted to know more about Levi Ackerman,” he prompts. “How did that end up with me in your bed again?”

“I didn’t hear you complaining earlier.”

“Fair,” Mike replies. He puts the towel on the bedside table, and then stretches languidly, before turning to his side and resting his head on a hand. “What brought this on then?"

"Just something interesting a student brought to my attention," Erwin says dismissingly and tries not to think about last night. No rolling heads. Nothing. Even a composed, rational man like him needs some time to make sense of an incident like that.

If Mike senses his hesitation, he has enough sense not to mention it. "Right. So the guy is your neighbor. I’ve been here a couple of times already, and you never mentioned that before.”

“Why, are you another fan of his?” Erwin raises an amused eyebrow at him.

Mike scoffs. “Hardly.” He thumps the space next to him, indicating Erwin to sit down. “I’m a few decades too old and not blind to be fanboying after a Corporation lapdog.”

“A Corporation lapdog?” Erwin’s eyebrows disappear up his hairline. “That’s not the impression I got from our limited interactions, at least. He seems to despise the Corporation, actually.” But then again, he seems to despise anything and everything apart from… whatever it is that he does behind closed doors. “He’s quite unfriendly in general.”

“I bet. You’re kidding me if you expected him to be some sweet, old lad that one would meet at Bible study after everything you’ve heard about him. The controversy made national news, yanno. The local newspaper here covered that story too, but I’m sure it was a bunch of horseshit the elites fed them, just like everything else within these goddamn Walls is. The media, the government, everything is fucked. This is what our taxes amount to, can you believe it?”

Erwin mulls it over. Mike is, he’s learnt over the past few months, quick to talk his mind. As a teacher, he’s fairly demure and to the point, has no reason to influence his students via mathematical wizardry, of course, but as a part-time content writer who keeps up with political affairs and economics, he takes no hostages when he does open his mouth. Which serves Erwin well enough; with the media and the web being controlled one way or another, few speak of things that go against the Corporation’s cleverly created narrative. He's lucky to have happened upon a suicidal loudmouth who only needs a nudge to spill his guts. “What do you think actually happened then?” He asks.

“What else?” Mike shrugs, as if it should be obvious enough. “Man graduates from a well known University. Got a scholarship and all. He’s as bright as these elite varsity assholes come; his big brains get him scouted into the research team right off the bat.” Mike laughs. “Then fame gets to his head and he thinks he’s untouchable. Even the Corporation can’t keep all its dogs on a tight leash all the time, can it?”

“You think he experimented on humans because ‘fame got to his head’?” Erwin comments incredulously. “That’s a punishable offense. It's quite a reach.”

“Why not? Give a young guy a few compliments and he starts thinking he’s hot shit.”

“He doesn't really seem like the narcissist type. Violent and vulgar, yes, but not a narcissist.” He'd heard first hand accounts of that violence and vulgarity, after all.

“Fine, maybe he’s just deranged then. Went mad about his research or whatever.”

“Like Frankenstein?” Erwin smiles indulgently, and rests back against the headboard, a pillow propped up between himself and the bed so he’s leaning comfortably. ‘Deranged’ does rather suit Levi. “You should write comic books instead of newspaper articles, you know?”

“Shut up,” Mike mutters, but he isn't someone who can't laugh off a joke made at his expense. He sits up then, all bulky muscle and manly scent, crossing his legs and peering at Erwin curiously. His thick neck is adorned with bruises from Erwin’s lips; it’s a satisfying visual. Erwin wouldn't mind seeing a few more of those on him. “What do _you_ think happened then?” He asks.

Erwin hums, clasping his hands together on top of his boxers and looking thoughtful. “I think he was framed.”

“Come again?”

“I said I think he might’ve been framed. Or used as a scapegoat, to be more precise,” Erwin replies. “Don't you wonder why a scandal that made national news was never taken to court?” He looks to Mike for any thoughts on that, and at man’s noncommittal shrug, he continues. “The Dome works on artificial intelligence, right? Numbers and probabilities. The renovations were so that it predicts the weather more accurately and takes proper precautions in cases of emergencies. Levi mentioned that to me when we first talked too.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I’m just theorizing based on the facts we know.” Erwin shrugs. “I think the SC had bigger aspirations. That actually makes a lot more sense than someone as bright as him being involved with just one big, life-changing project, doesn’t it? He was working for the Corporation for a long time, after all.”

“I mean, yeah, of course. That's obvious.” Mike frowns, then narrows his eyes at him as he arrives to his own conclusions. “So you’re implying that the SC made him work on something unethical, and when that came out, they pinned the blame on him to save face?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“And what do you propose is it that even the Corporation is afraid of being found out?”

Erwin shrugs. “Who knows? Clearly it’s dubious enough that they don’t want the Media or the general public asking them questions about it. Something that cannot be excused even with all the power they hold over the Government.”

“So they try to cover it up. Make Ackerman and his team the scapegoat.” Mike purses his lips, easily catching on to Erwin’s hints now that he’s warmed himself up to the idea of Levi not being a power-hungry, mad scientist. “The Government and the Media buys it, feeds it to the public, sure. But why would an entire team of highly specialized individuals just let that happen? They're not even going to try to clear their name?”

“Well, if you had a choice between a career suicide or an actual suicide, what would you pick?”

“Fair enough.” Mike frowns. The kind of influence on things within the walls that the SC has is unreal. “Suing the Corporation for defamation is stupid, yeah. And Ackerman is supposedly a smart man, so he’d never endanger himself by making reckless decisions like that. He and everyone involved must've known that there was no way any of them would come out of it alive."

“Hmm.” Erwin looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "They could’ve been paid to keep their mouths shut too.”

"Ah. As many credit scores as you could want. Or perhaps actual cash like those elites in Sinna. That ought to seal even the loosest of lips." Mike rubs his bearded chin, a deep furrow in his brows. "So by compromising and letting the Corporation stain his name, he manages to secure both his life and considerable wealth. And then he decides to, what? Move to a backwater district like Shiganshina and live off of scraps like a rat? Why?”

“Why?” Erwin echoes.

Mike brings his fist down on the comforter, making a vague thumping noise. “To avoid Media coverage and keep out of the reach of those Sinna elites so the beans are never spilled!”

Bingo.

Shiganshina has a lot of migrants; the district is built entirely on a population that had either fled the inner walls or had sneaked past Wall Maria from off-island cities in search of salvation. It explains the poor living conditions, the ill-considered construction, and why the development plans offered to other districts haven't been extended here. It's more or less just a dumping ground for the Corporation's industrial waste, and will probably remain so for years to come. There’s an unanimous agreement between the district dwellers to keep away from legalities and media too. What happens in Shiganshina, stays in Shiganshina. The people here want nothing to do with the inner Walls, and, Erwin knows this because he's been a Wall Sina resident for decades, the feelings are mutual from the other side.

“That’s what I think, yes.”

“You’re giving him too much credit for someone who finds him rude as shit, you know?” Mike points out. "Making nice sounding excuses and all."

Erwin laughs good-naturedly. "Nobody can be completely evil, right?"

Mike doesn’t take the bait. “Un-fucking-real, Smith,” he says. He appears to be deep in thought as he uses a foot to pick up his boxers from where they had been hastily discarded on the floor earlier. Erwin doesn’t bother pretending that he’s not looking at the muscles flexing on the man’s back. Mike has no qualms about being gawked at either. “Maybe it’s _you_ who’s become a fan. Charming new teacher from Mitras with a tragic past moves into a backwater town and becomes fascinated with the mysterious, notorious scientist living next door. Could write an erotica about it.”

“I thought you didn’t like my idea about writing fiction?”

“Yeah, well,” Mike scoffs at him over one bare, strong shoulder. “Why don’t you go and confirm your theory with the man himself, and we’ll see how much of it can be used in my erotica?”

\-------

Levi is far more agreeable and quick in opening the door this time around. His frown is the same, however. And he greets Erwin with the usual “What the fuck do you want?”

Erwin enthusiastically raises the Tupperware he’s holding. “I was trying my hand at baking again and thought I’d share the results with you,” he replies, smiling. “I noticed all the take out boxes in your trash the other day. That's not good for your health _or_ your pocket. Figured you might be craving some home-made food after all that.”

Levi narrows his eyes at him. His hair is sticking out in places. An angry gash peeks out from under his unkempt bangs, marking his forehead loudly. Erwin doesn't bother asking after it. “Aren’t you a little too pretty to be this big of a creep,” his neighbor mutters.

Erwin blinks, once again at a loss for words. “I… what?”

“Quit troubling me.”

Erwin manages to bounce back promptly. His confusion turns to indignation. He has spent the last two days mulling over things that he's sure the other man wouldn't like him even knowing about. He has the upper hand here. With Levi’s history, the man will have no choice but to lay down and take it. “I’m trying to be a good neighbor and making sure you don’t die of malnutrition just because your girlfriend isn’t around anymore.”

“So what? You think you're gonna become a temporary replacement for her now? Don’t flatter yourself. Just mind your own fucking business,” Levi grumbles.

Erwin frowns. His patience wears thin too quickly these days. “Can you at least _try_ being not vulgar for once?”

" _I_ am the one who needs to be _not vulgar_?"

"Well, I've just been trying to look out for you all this while, and all you do is-"

“Fucking hell," Levi cuts him off with a hiss, sounding incredulous. "Do you think this is fucking funny?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not one of your goddamn teething toddlers, Smith. I don't need you to baby me, especially not after the shit you've been pulling.” He leans closer, managing to get into Erwin’s space despite having barely stepped out of the doorway at all, and the scent of gasoline and cigarettes wafting off of the man is off-putting to say the least. What the hell does this guy do on an average day exactly? Erwin nearly misses out on the words being spoken to him while wondering that, but Levi's face far too close to his brings him right back. “Yeah, just 'cause I haven’t said anything about you putting your dick where it doesn’t belong, don't mean I don’t fucking see it." The man bares his teeth. "I wonder how your fellow teachers will react when they find out what you are.”

Erwin has rarely been someone who takes the bait; he believes in a peaceful life, knows that the nail that sticks out irrefutably gets hammered down. But just like he’s been punching down at Levi’s selfdom from the shadows all this time, Levi has been eating away at his patience. Erwin doesn't try restoring the distance between them. “And what is it that I am, Levi?” He says slowly.

Levi doesn’t immediately reply. He glares at Erwin for a long moment, taking in the threatening tone, then looks two seconds away from shutting the door in his face again. Erwin takes a gamble and jams his foot through it before the man can do so. That just seems to provoke Levi further. “ _Get out_.”

“I saw it,” Erwin interjects.

Levi isn't in any mood to play his games. “Shut the fuck up and get off my fucking porch or you’ll-”

“I'll what? End up like your girlfriend did?”

“That's a personal fucking matter. Don't go poking your nose into what I do with my girlfriend behind closed doors. Just mind your own god damned busi-”

“I saw it, Levi,” Erwin mutters, managing to crowd the smaller man against the doorframe within seconds. Levi may not want it, but he's going to have to play this game one way or another. Erwin has invested far too much in it for him to not to. “That night. In your backyard, with the garden shovel. Interesting choice of weapon, I must say. I saw you kill your girlfriend with it.”

It takes the other man a moment to make sense of his words, but once he has, his struggles to push Erwin out of the doorway stop short and all the color drains from his already pale face. His neck strains. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights. It’s slightly satisfying for Erwin to be able to physically tower over the man too; Levi is no stranger to physical violence, after all. The dark circles under his eyes are as prominent as ever. Erwin is sure he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a while.

“Did you report me?” Levi inquires lowly. So he’s not going to deny it.

“No,” Erwin replies, then offers him a wider, far from kind smile. “Not yet.”

His tone must have given something away, because Levi looks up at him, both curious and suspicious. His thin brows are knitted together. He’s a smart man, so Erwin has no doubts that he’s got his priorities straight at the moment. Levi is fully aware of the precarious position he’s in.

“Let’s have a chat, shall we?” Erwin suggests gently.

\-------

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't exactly a murder mystery. I just wanted to explore a futuristic, mildly dystopian society where the characters aren't the best versions of themselves. Basically, nihilism if it were a lifestyle. The world building might be confusing at first, but I hope it gets clearer with every chapter. Some things might be left up to your imagination though. I'm not a big fan of going out of my way to flatten out all discrepancies when it comes to world building; makes it a lot less exciting imo.
> 
> Not sure when the next chapter will be up. I have a bit of it written down, so hopefully it's sooner rather than later. Thanks for reading up till here. 
> 
> Comments are welcome! Feel free to guess what's going on, if you'd like.


End file.
